


Planning

by Satan (CherryBones)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - GTA, Fake AH Crew, I enjoyed writing this, M/M, There's really not much more to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4900714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryBones/pseuds/Satan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A heist is going wrong before it even begins. Geoff is overworking himself, but he needs some sleep. Jeremy's going to make sure that happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Planning

Shit happens, Geoff knows. But shit shouldn’t happen when there’s a heist at stake. People shouldn’t back out of deals, not when there’s only two days left until the heist. But they do and now he’s stuck without a weapons dealer and no means of getting another on such short notice. And he can’t just not do the heist, not when the others are expecting it. He’s not that kind of asshole.

It’s well past midnight and he’s still up, ignoring the crick in his back from standing for so long hunched over the table. His eyes hurt and his throat is sore and as much as he wants it, he’s not about to go grab another whiskey bottle to replace the one he’s finished and risk fucking something up by trying to plan drunk. There’s hypocrisy involved in that, he realizes, what with him being dead tired as he plans, but that’s besides the point. The point is that he needs a solid plan and he doesn’t _have one_. 

“Boss?”

He didn’t even realize someone had entered the room. He glances up to see Jeremy there, just inside the doorway, clad in a tank top and old jeans. His hair’s shining with water and Geoff can see the towel hung over the back of a chair in the kitchen for a millisecond before the door slips shut. Something must’ve happened on the job Geoff sent him out for, but whether it was bloody or just an accident or something, he has no way of knowing. He admires the sheen that the leftover dampness gives the smaller man before his attention is drawn by him speaking.

“They won’t accept a last minute deal. We’re on our own apparently.”

Geoff groans, returning his attention to the maps in front of them. They’re totally fucked then. There’s no way that the heist would work now, not without stupid levels of risk. He’d have to cancel it, there was no other way around it, not without a miracle. 

A hand comes down on his shoulder and he looks over, then down, straight into Jeremy’s concerned face. From this close he can make out the individual droplets still clinging to his hair.

“Boss, you need to take a break. You’ve been working like this since before I left. It’s like two in the morning. You need to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep later. This is more important.”

He moves to brush him off but there’s a reason he hired Jeremy. For a small guy he’s fast and he’s strong and he knows when to not put up with shit, which Geoff is seriously full of at the moment. Geoff needs sleep but he’s not going to go willingly and Jeremy is having none of it, so as soon as he shifts to brush him off he moves as well, pinning him against the table in an instant. The air rushes out of his chest with the impact and he lets out a weak noise along with it. Jeremy leans over him, pushing him harder against the table with his sheer mass. The angle gives him the much needed height differential to manage to growl his next words into Geoff’s ear, frustrated and full of concern for his well-being.

“Boss _, seriously_ , what’s it gonna take to get you to go to bed? Do I need to call someone to fuck you until you pass out?”

It’s a joke, a lighthearted edge to the other emotions, but Geoff is so tired and exhausted that when he laughs a little, more words follow the sound.

“Or you could do it.”

Silence. For a second Geoff thinks he’s done something monumentally stupid but then Jeremy shifts, presses closer. His voice drops into something huskier, darker, greedy.

“Really? You want me to fuck you boss?”

It’s weird how a normally innocent nickname can turn into a huge turn on in a matter of seconds, isn’t it? Geoff groans, pushing back up against him, encouraging him. Jeremy grabs at his pants, yanking them down just enough to get at his ass. He admires for a moment, deciding that Geoff’s got a _really_ great ass for an old guy. Then he drops to his knees in one smooth motion and licks over him. Geoff lets out a noise like he’s choking on his spit and Jeremy laughs against his flesh, earning another spluttered sound. He goes to town, watching from his vantage point as Geoff’s hands grab uselessly at the papers beneath him, crumpling map and trashed plan alike. A blunt finger slips in beside his tongue, searching out his prostate and playfully rubbing over it as he hums, adding to the torture. Geoff shifts in an attempt to glare back at him, voice cracking badly as he slips another finger in.

“Stop being a dick and fuck me.”

Jeremy pulls back enough to flash him a grin, scissoring his fingers to open him up in earnest now. A third finger joins the mix and Geoff lets out a broken groan. 

“Dooley I swear to fuck if you don’t get on with it I’m going to-”

His threat is cut off when Jeremy suddenly pulls his fingers out, leaving him bereft and reeling in that fact for a moment. It’s a long enough time period for Jeremy to spit into his hand, slicking up his cock and pushing it up against his ass. Geoff immediately goes still, waiting, He waits just long enough to see him open his mouth again, threat on his tongue, then pushes in, unable to stop himself from laughing a little at how Geoff fumbles the first word, melting it into some impressive swearing as Jeremy pushes in further with shallow thrusts, burying himself inside him. It’s borderline not enough, everything almost too tight and hot and Jeremy feels like he might die, losing himself for a minute in just the pure feeling of it, fucking into him until their hips meet. He has to stop for breath then, panting a little as Geoff flashes him a grin, looking a little out of breath himself.

“Enjoying yourself?”

He gives him a grin back.

“Just getting started boss.”

With that he pulls back as much as he can and immediately thrusts back in, stealing air from them both as he settles into the deep rhythm, trying to drag it out long enough to exhaust the remnants of Geoff’s energy. Geoff seems content enough with the situation, relaxing against the table and letting Jeremy do all the work. His hands flex against the table though, hips jittering now and again with a particularly good thrust, not completely unaffected. The rhythm starts to fall apart as Jeremy manages to zero in on Geoff’s prostate, aiming for hitting the sensitive bundle of nerve every movement or so. Geoff lets out a broken moan as he succeeds, shifting his own hips enough that the smaller man gets the message and reaches around to play with Geoff’s cock where it’s still mostly covered by his clothes, no doubt uncomfortable and tight. He rubs it through the fabric for a second, making him shake, before he gives in and yanks his pants down enough to wrap his hand around his cock, giving it a few quick drags. It slickens quickly, Geoff’s precome paving the road. He twists his hand and that’s the end of it. Geoff comes with a sharp startled shout, hips bucking as he empties out onto the table. Jeremy’s not long behind him, managing a few more jerky thrusts before he suddenly stills, breathing hard as he tries to regain his composure, filling Geoff with wet warmth in the meantime.

It’s a couple minutes of silence before either of them are competent enough to manage movement or even words again. The quiet is interrupted when Geoff suddenly yawns. Jeremy laughs, practically bending in half over his back in humor. He pulls out, quickly tucking himself away and tugging Geoff’s pants back up enough to seem half-decent. Any attempt at decency is ruined when he scoops him up with ease though, grinning as Geoff splutters.

“Shut up boss, it’s time for you to sleep.”

He grumbles but doesn’t protest any further, letting Jeremy carry him to his bedroom. Geoff doesn’t get shy or embarrassed when Jeremy helps him clean up and get undressed, doesn’t flush when Jeremy tugs back the covers and lets him crawl in. And he _absolutely_ doesn’t pass out in a matter of seconds after that.

Jeremy smiles down at him for a second before returning to the plan room. He cleans up, throwing away the ruined papers and wiping down the table. The man hesitates as he stares down at it, gears turning in his mind before something clicks. It takes less than a second to pull out his phone and corral a bunch of numbers into a group text, sending out a single mass text. The first is at the door mere seconds after he gets out of the shower for the second time in an hour. 

The next morning Geoff opens the door to the plan room to find a group of people sprawled in chairs across the table, some members of his crew, some he knows vaguely, and some he doesn’t. They’re all asleep, snoring softly, and there’s a stack of papers in the center of the table. He reaches around them to look. It’s a plan for the heist, complete with a weapons dealer and some things he didn’t even think of. It’s damn near perfect and he glances around the table again, eyes settling on the man asleep at the head of the table, face mashed into a map and undoubtedly with marker on his cheek when he awakens. A swell of affection fills his chest. Jeremy knows what he’s doing. Maybe he deserves something more than just a job as an errand runner. The others around the table probably deserve it too.

And thus begins the story of the B-Team.

**Author's Note:**

> I was encouraged to write smut.


End file.
